No Promises -- American Revolutionary War
by Nix Spiritus
Summary: I got bored, and couldn't find many Hetalia fics that entertained me, so why not write my own? Hehe, this is just something I came up with as I went. I won't be continuing, but I hope you enjoy! /I tried to write romantic shizzle. I'm sorry if I failed, I have no experience with it. ;w;


**FIXED FORMAT ERROR. My apologies.  
I ALSO FIXED THE RANDOM LANGUAGE CHANGES I PUT IN AND I DON'T KNOW WHY. I WAS TIRED & IT WAS LATE.**

"Aim!"

Only America knew that I was truly a girl, a young girl who had run from home to join the war against England.  
It, now that I think about it, was foolish to run off, board under my father's shirt, and sign into war.

br /And here I was now, a simple farm girl, now a commander and cheif, staring down England himself-America standing to my left.

"What happened!?" He shouted. "You were so great once!" There was pain in America's voice. "This is your fault!" England shouted back. "I didn't change, you did!" "You wanted me to change, that's why I left!" There was still silence as rain began to pour.  
England muttered something under his breath, and his men behind him raised their weapons, bayonets shining from the rain. Neither of them wanted to fight, I could tell. No one did, any true person wanted peace. It wasn't possible. Not with England. We sent petitions and letters before war. He had denied them all. We had no choice. England had become a tyrant. I stood a short distance behind America, everyone listening to the sibling's dispute. Then it happened. One of England's men, I'll never know who, fired, aiming at me.  
Everyone had failed to notice where the shot was directed-everyone but /He moved himself infront of me, and a sound could be heard-a sound of pain. He fell, quietly and limp. "America!" Everything froze, no one dared to breath. "America! I ran over to him, throwing my gun on my back, strap hanging low. America!" He was on the ground, face. I turned him over. He was dirty and bleeding. He had been shot in the top left of his chest "D-Dummy.. you're just messing around, right?"  
His eyes were closed. I pushed hair out of his face. "A-America.. you're just playing, right?"  
Tears welled in my eyes. America wasn't just a leader, he was a freind. I took of my overcoat and layed it on him, attemping to stop the blood. He was breathing heavily. "A-America.." I layed on him, eyes spilling tears. "Why..?"

"I-I'm the Hero, right? That shot would've killed you." He coughed dryly, then fell silent. "America!?"  
Nothing. I held his face. "C-come on, stop messing around."  
I tried to smile. "America.. please." Still, no response. "C-Come on!" Tears spilled, and I slapped him, desperate for a reply. "America-!" I continued to hit him, weaker every time. "Please, get up. You'll be alright. I gently pat his face. Everything was silent. "P-Please, America!  
Don't die on me!" I hugged him, weeping into his shoulder. He put him hand on my head. "I'd rather die than have you dead." He ran his fingers through my hair. "N-No!' I held him tighter. "I-I'll kill myself! Don't, please!" My eyes had run dry. "I know you wouldn't. You left to fight, afterall,  
didn't you?" I shook. "D-Don't die.." "Sorry." He fell truly still. "No." "No!" Someone tried to pick me up, away from from"No!" I wept like a little child, probably looking pathetic as ever. I couldn't hold anything. "He deserved a better death. Not from a misfire. N-Not from protecting me.."

First of my father. Killed by English troops, in "The Boston massacre"

My mother,  
forced to give up everything the had for the British.

My siblings, both dying of starvation.

Then America. My first time seeing him, how I had looked up to him. He was strong and brave, made to lead. Then my first battle, him leading us to another victory.

Our time at Valley Forge, where I had almost died twice.

When he had found me out-discovered I was a female. Our friendship's blossom.

All taken.

It was all gone, and ripped and torn.

"And not by a Brit.."

I stood up, shaking. Unarmed, I marched up to Britian. "You.." I spoke coldy. He stood, staring at me, surprised by my adrupt approach. "You've taken _everything from me!" _punched him in the face, knocking him over.

Shots fired.

"H-How is he!?" I had been standing outside the nursing tent for hours now. The man just shook his head no. I ran inside. He was patched up, but breathing hard. "America.." I got onto my knees, meeting him a bit lower than eye level. He, laying down, tried to sit up. He soon after failed. I wasn't exactly sure what to say. "C-Can you promise you'll be alright..?" My eyes were again tearful. He weakly smiled. "No promises."

I explained to him what happened after he passed out. "Wait-so you punched him in the face?" I sheepishly nodded. "Hah!" He smiled, a real smile. The one I woke up to see. I sat with him for a half hour or so in silence. I wouldn't leave, I refused, but I didn't know why I should stay.

"Hey.." America took my hand, holding it in the tight grasp of his two hands. "I'm your hero, right?" I looked at him, my face now hot and most likely a red. His as well was shaded pink in places. "Of course. You're my Hero, you always have been and you always will be." I smiled, and placed my free hand ontop of his. "G-Good, because I'll always be there to save you." He was now blushing to an extreme. "Just don't go getting yourself killed for me." He squeezed my hands, and gave me his sarcastic grin.

"No promises."

_**I'm sorry about any inaccuracies in this story. This was just something I made up early/late at night. My strong-suit is more Science than Social Studies. Heh.**_

_**THIS IS IN NO OFFENSE TO BRITISH PEOPLE OF ANY SORT-I'M SURE YOU"RE LOVELY.  
**__**Please note this is written in the view of an American soldier/patriots. Also, I'm sure our textbooks are different. You've probably learned how King George III had his reasons for refusing to grant us independence, while, here in America, we learn how we beat the odds and won the war. We were kind of taught this way, though I can imagine other view points. Again, this is not intended to be offensive. Sorry.**_


End file.
